


When the Bough Breaks

by tinyavenger_tonystark



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Connor, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Connor Deserves Happiness, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gavin Reed Redemption, Gavin Reed Swears, Gay Disaster Gavin Reed, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Good Parent Hank Anderson, Good kamski, Hank Being Awesome, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Connor, Kid Fic, Light Angst, Parent Hank Anderson, Poor Connor, Poor Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Hank Anderson, Toddlers, more on the fluff side- it's a miracle I know, will add tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 14:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15997436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyavenger_tonystark/pseuds/tinyavenger_tonystark
Summary: Connor's RK800 model gets too severely damaged and because Cyberlife is now owned once again by Elijah Kamski, he is transferred to a child model, leaving Hank to care for a toddler Connor until the RK800 model is fixed.





	When the Bough Breaks

**Author's Note:**

> This might be fluffier than I usually write, but there will, in fact, be angst. You can't expect anything else from me- a Big Gay Dramatique Trashbag of a Prince. 
> 
> Hank is Connor's dad 100% canon, confirmed by me.
> 
> This is what Connor looks like, by the way:  
> https://pm1.narvii.com/6638/84a28527a5cfdc9b4ea973e2bbaf91094941a98b_hq.jpg

Hank is _not_ getting paid enough for this. He lets out a loud sigh as his 'partner' stumbles to keep up with him and pauses to let the kid catch up.

Kid.

Literal fucking kid.

After his last model had been destroyed via Connor trying to chase a suspect through the streets, he, unsurprisingly, got hit by a car. Aside for emotionally traumatizing Hank, it also rendered his previous body nonfunctional- which, okay, that makes sense. Hank can't even blame _Cyberlife_ for Connor dying. He got hit by a _fucking car._ Because he decided to play a fucking game of Frogger without a video game console and without any common sense.

And against Hank's express orders because of course the son of a bitch did.

So Cyberlife, having a small amount of mercy now that Kamski's regained control of the company, decided to transfer Connor's memory and data to another model because they were currently out of RK800 models. The only model at hand which had most of Connor's capabilities was a YK800 model and an HR500.

Because Hank definitely did not want Connor to be in a sex android in the most figurative sense, he decided on a YK800. Aside for the fact that he can't imagine Connor being associated with the word _sex_ , it was also the fact that it's no hidden fact that the sex bots get targeted more for assaults and rapes and in their line of work, that's too much like painting a target on Connor's unsuspecting back. So now, Connor's a kid.

Kamski made it look enough like Connor, at least. He has soft curly dark hair, warm brown eyes, and his usual goofy smile, even though he's in the 2-4 year old range. He's _tiny_.

He's just short of the age that Cole was, which makes everything ache in a wholly different type of way. Cole was precious around this age, before he started to want more independence and still looked to Hank for almost everything.

“Lieutenant, can we slow down, please? You're walking too fast,” Connor pipes up from beside Hank.

Hank looks down at the kid and sighs. “Come here.” He picks Connor up and decides that carrying him would be faster and more efficient, even though Connor's face turns blue immediately and he starts to squirm in Hank's arms. “Hey, now, none of that. We ain't getting anywhere with you jogging to keep up with me. This is the only solution.”

Connor stops squirming, but his face doesn't shift from the scowl it's currently donning. “Where are we going?”

“We had work today and because I assume they're not going to be stupid enough to still force you to go to crime scenes while you're 3 feet tall, I'm going to have a talk with Fowler to figure something out.” That opens up another conversation of how they're going to make money, but Hank doesn't say anything about it.

“I can still go to crime scenes. I still have my mental faculties functional, and my systems are all capable of doing the same things as my previous model, though at a slower rate. Not so slow as humans, but 20 percent slower than my RK800 model,” Connor says, looking around as Hank carries him. It's an odd sensation to be in someone else's arms, and though it's embarrassing to be carried around like a human child, it also has a sense of safety attached to it.

Still, he wishes his previous model was here. It would make everything much more efficient.

“You're not going to a crime scene right now, Connor. You're too-” Hank pauses, considering. 'Young' probably won't be the right word for the android, considering he's an adult in a child's body, but still. It feels like he's crossing some type of line by making a child android go look at dead bodies. “-ill-equipped to face criminals. I'm pretty sure there are regulations that bar child androids to perform adult-aimed tasks, right? Kid androids can't do any hard labor like the adult androids?”

Connor frowns when he remembers that part of the Liberation of Androids Act of 2038, but he sighs in defeat. “I guess that makes sense. Can I still act as a Negotiator? All it requires is my ability to speak and close vicinity with the suspects.”

Hank doesn't tell Connor how that sounds like a recipe for a very bad idea because he doesn't feel like dealing with a mopey android at the moment so he shrugs. “We'll see what Fowler has to say about it.”

Hopefully, Fowler will agree with Hank on the matter, which, knowing Fowler, he would.

–

“What the _fuck_ , Hank?” are the first words that Fowler says, which immediately sets them off to a good start. Hank is glad he left Connor outside.

Hank raises his hands. “Listen. It was an accident, alright? He got run over, what the fuck do you want me to do about that? I'm just here because he's asking _me_ if he can work here in this state- he _wants_ to keep working here and go to crime scenes, and I would honestly prefer it if you said 'fuck no' but it's up to you.”

“So you're asking for my answer so that if I say no you can tell him he can't because I'm the boss and I said no?”

Hank gives a one-shoulder shrug. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“So I'm the bad guy again, go figure,” Fowler says and rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat.

“You play the role well, what can I say? You're well-practiced in being the bad guy.”

Fowler looks at him for a second before glancing out the window, seeing Connor swinging his legs in the chair too big for him. That cements his answer. “He's... a kid. He's always been a bit naive and socially clueless and shit, but now he's physically a kid which is just... something.” He shakes his head and sighs. “He won't be able to work, that's for damn sure. You should keep him at home, maybe find him a babysitter or something. I'm pretty sure there are androids that can babysit him.”

“I haven't got a babysitter,” Hank says, rubbing a hand over his face. “Can I just keep him here with me while I work? I mean, he won't be a bother, I promise, he just doesn't have anywhere else to go and he's too small to do anything on his own without getting himself killed, probably.”

After a few seconds of careful consideration, Fowler takes pity and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, that's fine. It's just like old times.”

Hank pretends not to hear the last statement, getting up now that he got the permission he needs- and the one he wanted. “Hey, Hank?” he calls, stopping Hank before he can leave the room. Hank turns to him and Fowler purses his lips before he speaks. “Take care of him, yeah? A lot of assholes would take advantage of him and his naivete, especially in this form. I don't think he really has a good understanding of danger yet. It would be... good if you teach him more about trusting people.”

Hank squints, thrown off by the sudden sentiment. He swallows once and nods, brooding on his thoughts as he walks over to his desk. Connor looks up at him with his innocent brown eyes, his legs still swinging back and forth, too short to reach the floor. “What did he say? Am I allowed to work?”

Hank lets out a small laugh, running his fingers through his beard. “Ah, uh, no. He said that I should find you a babysitter. But because we don't have a babysitter and we can't currently afford one, I can let you _stay_ here while _I_ work. So you can be here, but not work, does that make sense?”

Connor's lips turn downward and for a horrifying moment, Hank thinks that Connor's going to start up a storm, but he doesn't. He just turns away, his LED blinking yellow. “Hey, it's alright, right? You'll still be here, at least. And now you don't hafta get hassled by assholes anymore.”

Connor ignores him and stares at the wall, his legs pulled up to his chest.

Hank sighs and decides to let him pout for now, pulling up some files on a new deviant that's been committing some odd crimes, to say the least. He keeps one eye on Connor as he works, but he gets invested in the details of the unusual case, his attention slipping in a deep focus as the minutes tick on without Connor moving a muscle.

Connor gives Hank a glance before he slides off the too-large chair and subtly walks to the break room, deliberately avoiding Hank's line of sight and Reed's desk. It's only when he finally gets to the break room does he realize that he's not only too small to reach the shelves that hold the cups, he's also too small to properly reach the vending machine. It's an insult on top of the injury he's already received and he almost- _almost-_ wants to give into the coding of his new model and just _cry_.

He doesn't. He takes some time to re-calibrate and decides to walk over to the chair, deciding that if he can't do things like he used to, then he'll just have to adapt and improvise to deal with this stupid new life that all humans apparently have to experience.

Connor manages to push the chair to the counter, working on pulling himself onto the _unreasonably_ high counter when none other than Gavin Reed struts in. Gavin barely takes a second to process what he's seeing before he's rushing forward, a baffled and nervous look on his face. “Yo, what the fuck, kid, hold on, you trying to get hurt?” Gavin asks, hands out in case if Connor falls. He reaches Connor before the kid falls and puts a hand on his back to help him up, thrown off enough that the whole “android vs. human” shit doesn't even enter his mind. All he can see is the fact a dumb-ass toddler is about to fall and damn, self-proclaimed asshole or not, he can't let that happen.

Connor looks at Gavin once he's steady on the counter, eyes wide. They're silent for a few seconds and Gavin realizes he's in Connor's space so he takes a few awkward steps back. He crosses his arms, trying his best to glare at the kid. “You almost fell,” he says, crossing his arms. It's ridiculous, he knows, because it's an actual fucking preschooler, but it's also _Connor_. He doesn't know if Connor's mentally a kid or not. “You shouldn't... climb stuff like that. Shoulda got your dad Hank to help you.”

Connor crosses his arms right back, leveling Gavin with a glare of his own. “I can perfectly well perform the same tasks I used to perform before.”

Gavin looks at the chair and then up at Connor. “You sure about that?”

“I have to make Hank some coffee. It's... a routine,” Connor replies before he turns away and reaches for the cups which are now within his reach. He takes it carefully, trying to get used to the small size of his fingers relative to their previous size. His motor skills are certainly not functioning at the same capacity as before, that's for sure. He ignores Gavin and works on making coffee while standing on the counter, though he can still feel the other's eyes on him as he works.

Gavin takes that as his hint to walk over to the tables, pulling out his phone to do some idle browsing. He ignores several messages, deletes a few of his posts from the previous night, and posts a picture of his cat to the internet because there can never be enough pictures of his cat online.

Connor frowns when he realizes that carrying the pot to pour the water is going to be difficult and there's a 54 percent chance that trying would end in him spilling it or burning himself on the hot liquid. If he does, it's quite likely that Hank would not be happy with him causing damage to his model so soon after he paid for Kamski to transfer Connor to this model.

That presents a problem.

Connor cannot lift the pot but if he doesn't then it'll get cold and Hank does not enjoy cold coffee. He thinks for a few more seconds before he glances across the room, a solution he doesn't like forming in his mind. _Gavin_. Of all people, it has to be Gavin.

“Reed,” Connor calls. When Gavin meets his eyes, Connor turns to the pot and then back. “Do you mind helping me? I don't think I can pour this into the cup without spilling it. My motor functions are not properly calibrated.”

Gavin shrugs and pockets his phone. “Aight, I guess. Ain't like I got anything better to do than help a preschooler. What happened to your old model, anyway? They repairing it after- after what happened?”

He still can't get the image of the accident from his mind, still remembering the way that Connor looked splayed on the concrete, limp as a hollow corpse by the side of the road. The worst part about it was Hank, who shook like he was drenched to the bone, elbowing and pushing people out of the way to get close to his son.

When Hank dropped to his knees and pulled Connor to his chest, it was impossible to remember that the one in Hank's arms was just an android; it was hard to call something unalive when you see it _dead_ in someone else's arms.

It took a lot of effort just to get Connor from Hank's arms, and even more to calm down the detective. Gavin doesn't think he's seen the man look so upset in his life- not after Cole, anyway. But this time, there was a certain _rawness_ in it, a _trauma_ in them that shook Gavin to his core.

“I am not sure if they can repair my model because the RK800 line has been discontinued after my failure. Kamski is trying to create me another one similar to my previous model but he didn't make my previous model but he's... trying. For now, this will have to suffice. I don't know how humans can live like this.” Connor watches as Gavin pours the coffee with ease and fixes Hank's coffee just like how Hank likes.

Gavin laughs a bit. “Yeah, being a kid is hard. Harder if you haven't got parents, so you're lucky in that regard.”

Connor's LED spins for a second before he asks, “You did not have parents?”

The smile on Gavin's face falls off and his eyes widen. “Wait, no, I- I did! I did have parents. I dunno why I said that. Mental typo, I guess.” He laughs nervously, his face heating up as Connor watches him.

“Hank isn't my father though,” Connor says, sitting down on the counter. “I'm an android, so I can't be his child.”

Gavin pauses and then turns to Connor. The kid doesn't fucking _know_? “Of course he's your dad, moron. He cares more about you than anyone else, plus, he literally would rather kill everyone here than lose you again. There's more to family than blood.”

There's silence for a second while they both realize who they're talking to, but neither of them speak. Connor's LED flashes and spins twice before it returns to blue. “Thank you... Gavin.”

Gavin finishes stirring and gives Connor a jerky nod. “Whatever, Connor.”

_Connor?_

Gavin's never called him that before. Connor squints and realizes it's deliberate. He gives the man a small smile, stepping down to the chair so he could walk back to Hank's desk and deliver the coffee. Gavin hands him the coffee and frowns. “Aight, be careful with this. I've gotta go and take a leak, so you do your thing.”

Connor walks back to Hank's desk with the coffee in his hand, trying to put one foot in front of the other without spilling the drink in his hands. Hank looks up when he sees the kid and can't help the small laugh that escapes his lips. “Aw, you made me some coffee? Didn't know you could reach the counter.”

“I managed to find other solutions to the problem,” Connor says, climbing back onto his chair and sitting across from Hank. “What progress have you made with the case?”

Hank waves his hand and sighs. “I'm still picking it apart. Hey, you hungry, by the way? I know that this model gives you more human-like capabilities.”

Connor looks at him, torn between lying and saying that he is, but if he says the truth then that would disturb Hank's work on the case and the case comes first. “You read the instruction manual? That was 150 pages.”

Hank's face forms into a tight smile, “I had the time while they were trying to fix you up.”

Oh. _Oh._

“It said you can eat, sleep, feel more, and you get more child-like emotions. Also said that you'd likely be liable to throw the tantrum here and there, according to your age, and since you're 3, I should probably watch out for that.” Hank runs a hand down his beard in thought. “Uh, let's see... You're physically weaker and less coordinated than before. You could also get rid of waste, apparently, in an android version of using the bathroom.”

Connor blushes blue at the mention of using the bathroom- an _absurd_ idea for an android! “I can turn that function off and do it manually.”

Hank's lips tip upward at the clear blue tinge of Connor's face. “Alright, I wasn't saying you have to, I'm just saying that's something I read. You're avoiding my question though. Are you hungry?”

Connor shifts and looks away, which gives Hank his answer. “Kid, you don't have to hide these things. I'm here to keep you alive. C'mere, let's go grab something to eat. Do you want a thirium drink or physical food?”

Hank lifts the kid into his arms and grabs the backpack that Chloe had handed him after the “operation” that transferred Connor into this model, filled with all the supplies that Hank would need to care for Connor. Connor squirms a bit but settles after a few seconds, his hands finding their way around Hank's neck. “Physical food?”

“Alright. Good thing I packed a lunch, then.”

They make their way to the break room that Connor was in not that long ago- Connor's pretty sure that it isn't Hank's lunch time yet, but his stomach growls and silences his protests. Connor tries to ignore the way that the entire precinct seems to watch them with varying degrees of sadness and amusement, but it's hard when he can _feel_ their gazes on them. He tightens his hold on Hank, feeling oddly... vulnerable.

Hank brushes a few stray hairs out of Connor's face, placing him on one of the chairs before he frowns. “Huh, guess you can't reach the table like that. I'll find you a pillow or something, wait here.”

Without waiting for Connor's reply, he sets off, leaving Connor in a chair too high for him to get off of. Connor watches him go with a slight frown, hunger gnawing at him uncomfortably. The minutes tick by slowly and he starts to grow antsy and bored, wondering where Hank went.

“-and I told the son of a bitch to- Oh, what do we have here? The little android's all alone,” the man says, and Connor recognizes him as one of the newest additions to the force after the revolution. Detective Sully Donovan, if Connor remembers correctly. “Where's daddy? Did he abandon you that quick after realizing that a plastic can't replace his son?”

A cruel smile forms on his face and Connor's thirium pump seems to drop, his software destabilizing in a sudden flash of _red_ in his vision for a second before everything goes back to normal. “The lieutenant... told me to wait here.”

“Yeah, I _bet_ he did. I saw him leave, actually, didn't he tell you?” Donovan waves behind him and laughs, looking to the woman he was talking to- Phoebe Anderson, another one of the well-known android-haters in the precinct. She smiles with sharp teeth bared like an animal waiting to jump.

Connor wants to _go home_. He wants _Hank._

“Aw, look, you're upsetting the _kid_ ,” Phoebe says, starting to laugh as Donovan steps forward. The floor is too high for Connor to jump- he doesn't _want_ to jump, though logically he knows he will likely not be severely injured in doing so. The idea of jumping seems unwise, though staying in Sully and Phoebe's presence is just as, if not more, unwise.

_Software Instability detected_

Connor tilts his chin up and forces his face into a scowl. “Hank didn't leave. He told me to wait right here, he'll come back.”

“Yeah? Well, if he does, he must be more delusional than I thought- imagine, trying to care for a fucking _machine_. I bet you don't even feel pain, do you?” Donovan's hand moves faster than Connor can calculate it, striking him in the back of the head. It makes another flash of red fill his vision, his heart hammering in his chest.

_H̵̛͈͓̜̣̳̟̜̞̦̊̑̅̕͘͠a̶̧̢̨̻͉̹͕̦̖̬̝̼̟̮͇̬͕̳͋̽͂͂n̶͓̰̬̩̜̟̠͍̱̭̣̘͚͓͙̖̳̈́̾̈́̿̇̐̀̇̓̿͊́k̶̨̫̘̭̝̩̇̓̓͆͂̈́͛̄̆̾̾͊̓͊ȟ̶̨̙͇͓̇̈́͐̃͛͘͜͜͝ͅä̴̢̯̩͉̘́̒̄̍̀́̄͊̊̍͆̍́̆͠͝͠n̵̛̪̞̹͓̺͕̈́͑̈́̾̽̈́͠k̷̡̛̛̫̖͇̺͖̜̫͇̖̗̰͔̤̥͇̺̳̃̄͑͊̿͌͆̀͜͝ḩ̵̧͇̳̬͈͕͉͈̖̹̱̟̾̂̇̏͊͌̔̄͐́͂͐͠ã̸̮̘̺̩̍n̵̨̯̪͍̯͖̗̭̺͓̰̳͙̒̊̈̈́̎̓̆̊͑͒̓̄̽͆͘͜͝͝k̷̨̻̠͖͒͒̐͋̎ẖ̷́͋͆͛͌͐̈́͋̈̅̕͝a̵̯̙̩̭̜̼̭̺̲͚̣̪̲̾̿̑́̌̐̏̊͘͝n̴̨̫̋̆͘k̴̲̲̺̓̆̍̈́͐̍̊͛h̸̢̛̫̙͓͎̫͈͉͓͖͍̖̲͂̓̏̉̓̈̾͌͐̏̓̽͛̐͒͘͜͜͠ą̴̡̬͇̻̤͈̣͚̼̂̔͆̍̎̒̔̎̈̈́̄̃͊͛̀̕͜n̵̡̬͖̬͇̾͑̌̂̚͝k̵̮͌͠ḩ̶̗̥͕̝̘̤̰̽̄a̸̢̫̮͉̺̘̹͉̣̞͎͎̲͋̎͊̔̆ͅń̸̛̩͈͎̽̒͊̓̅̒͐͘͝ǩ̶͎̖͇̽͒̆̐̏̽̃̃̒͒͊̇͠͠͝_

It doesn't even hurt that bad but his programming tells him that it is _bad_ and _he_ feels bad and he just wants to go _home_ and he wants Hank and he just wants to _leave_. He thinks that this is what Hank described as fear and he doesn't enjoy it at all.

“You goin' to cry? Don't tell me you're going to cry, plastic. Machines don't cry.”

_M̵̖͆å̵͜c̶̰̅h̶͕͒i̵̗͌n̵̪̓e̴̮̿_

_̵͓͊M̸͂ͅă̴̼c̵̊͜h̶͕̚ï̶̲n̴͔e̶͈_

_̵͝ͅM̸̥̚a̸͉͂c̵̺̚h̸͇͒ĭ̷̜ṇ̶̽e̸̤_

_̷̰͒M̶͇̄â̷̳c̷̊͜h̷͔͝i̷̙̋n̸̫͛e̵̛̪_

_̷͔̍H̸͚̏a̴̦̽n̶͎͝k̷̺̋ ̴͍͘hȅ̵̟l̵̜̍p̷̺̑_

He moves forward again, the sound of Phoebe's laughter still burning Connor's ears, and Connor flinches back. The chair goes with him.

Connor's suddenly aware of three things assaulting his mind and fighting for his attention. One, he is on the ground and his right elbow is ignited with an unbearable type of pain that makes his arm feel like it's entered the metaphysical realm. Two, there's a lot of yelling and footsteps. Three, his face is wet with tears and he can't stop crying.

He opens his eyes and sees a scuffle going on; his programming assesses it for data on who's fighting who, why, and how without any conscious thought.

Who:

Gavin Reed and Sully Donovan are fighting.

Why:

“You _sick_ asshole, you can't hit a kid! We're supposed to _protect_ them.”

“It's a goddamned android! You never cared before!”

“It's a _kid_ you fucking monster! I don't care if it's a motherfucking alien from some imaginary planet called Sakaar, you don't- you don't fucking _hurt_ them!”

How:

They're both on the ground, taking turns at swinging and being the one getting pinned down. They keep rolling around on the unsanitary break room floor and they fight so messily and dirtily that it's hard to believe that they've gotten actual training for this.

Donovan bites Gavin arm to break from the hold that Gavin has on him, Gavin lets out a loud curse and yanks Donovan's hair before throwing a punch at his jaw.

It is, in simple words, a complete mess, a flurry of limbs and ungraceful blows.

Connor looks up to see more people running towards them and he pushes himself tighter into the corner, tears still streaming down his face like the river that Hank took him to once, and he can feel the crowd _staring_ at him but the crowd of faces don't include Hank.

“Reed, Donovan, Anderson- my office!” Captain Fowler yells and everything becomes as silent as a corpse's tomb. Connor watches them go and in an odd way, he feels worse. Now everyone's just looking at _him_ as he cries and he can't stop but he wants to stop but he's scared and it hurts and nothing's okay-

_Software Malfunctioning_

There are voices, lots of them, coming in from everywhere all at once, but he doesn't want to hear them so he shuts his eyes against the onslaught of voices and garbled words. He wants to turn off his optical and audio receptors, wants to leave his skin, wants to go somewhere _quiet_.

He's distantly aware that he's sitting on the floor and sobbing, but he can't stop crying and he can't stop the feeling gnawing at him that he recognizes as 'upset'.

Then there are arms around him, engulfing him, and they smell like cigarette smoke and dogs and the river and honey, and he's safe and he can _**finally breathe**_.

Hank.

There's no doubt that it's Hank. Connor would know him by touch and smell alone. Connor would know him by the step of his feet and the texture of his favorite coat. If there is anything in this world that Connor knows anything about, Connor knows Hank.

 _D̴̨̛͖͎̈́̆̍̑̽̿͑̈́͆̏̈́̑̈̚̕̕̚a̴̩̩̹͕͇̣͉͎̤͉̼̦͔̦͚̍͘d̸̛̛̜̈͂̃̑͋̂̊̽́͐̈́̔̔̕̕͠_.

“Shit, kid, what happened?”

Tina clucks her tongue and sighs. “Donovan and Anderson,” she says with a tight grimace. “Gavin swung at Donovan after seeing Donovan giving him a hard time and- well, the three are in Fowler's office.”

Hank gives her a small nod at the answer, still holding Connor to his chest protectively as the little android cries his heart out against Hank's chest, his hands holding Hank's coat like he'll get ripped away by some imaginary monster under the bed. “I'm going home. Tell Fowler that if he doesn't sort those two motherfuckers out, _I_ will and I won't be as gentle.”

Hank holds Connor with one arm, grabbing their uneaten lunch and stopping by his desk for the backpack, ignoring the files that are still on his screen. It'll turn off automatically after a while of idleness. “We're going home now, kiddo, it's alright. We could probably do some shopping later for supplies if you feel up to it. But right now, I think what we need is a good meal, some rest, and maybe a good movie.”

Connor doesn't budge as Hank takes him away from the staring eyes of the officers, overwhelmed by the surges of emotion that leave his programming grappling to self-regulate through the worst of it. Logic has been thrown out of the door with his emotional stoicness and all he can focus on is the sensation of Hank's chest rising and falling and the pain pulsing around his humerus.

Hank opens the car door, presented with a problem when Connor doesn't let go. They have to get home so they can eat and rest, but for them to get home, Hank has to drive. Hank can't drive if Connor's still clinging to him like a barnacle.

“Hey, come on, kid, let go so we can go home. It'll be fast, I promise, what do you say?” Hank says, keeping his voice soothing by instinct. “Don't you wanna go home?”

Connor only holds him tighter, shaking his head desperately, still shaking. “ _Stay_.”

“I'll only be in the front. Connor...” Hank sighs, realizing he wasn't going to get anywhere with Connor in this state. With his history, he won't be able to take his eyes off the rearview mirror anyway, so he might as well just sit in the back with Connor until the kid calms down. Kid must have had a hell of a scare to be this distraught. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

Connor shakes his head and lets out another sob.

“Are you hurt?”

A nod.

“Where does it hurt?”

Connor incoherently speaks against Hank's coat, gesturing at his right arm, and Hank nods after a few seconds. “Alright, we'll figure that out when we get home. It might just be a temporary injury. Kids get hurt all the time, so we'll see if it goes away in an hour or two, alright? Just let it out.” He leans against the door of the car, letting Connor remain crying on his chest.

As he holds Connor and runs his fingers through the young one's hair, he thinks back to the instruction manual that Kamski had given him. Among many other things, Connor could feel pain now in a way that he hadn't before, emotional and physical. His emotional defenses are also not what they used to be, so his processors might grow upset in a similar manner to an actual child- basically, he might become as illogical and irrational as a kid from time to time, even though his adult vocabulary would likely remain intact.

 _Likely_ , because at the moment he's just... a mess.

Kamski also warned him that Connor might fluctuate between ages due to the fact he was originally programmed for an adult model, though if he remains in a child model his adult programming might slip away from time to time and he'd go into complete “Child Mode”, particularly if exposed to unpleasant stimuli or distress.

Hank sighs as the fifth minute ticks by with no signs of change in Connor's agitation, his LED still a solid yellow with the occasional flash of red. He fishes around the backpack with his left hand, trying to find what he's looking for without looking or shifting, his right hand still on Connor's back. When he finds it, he eases Connor back a bit, pushing the pacifier into his mouth. Connor jerks back from him at first but he's ready for it, rubbing circles into his back like he's done it all his life. “It's alright. Just a pacifier, see? It'll help you calm down. Give it a try.”  
  
Connor's eyes are filled with confusion and slight distrust as he eyes the object, but he allows Hank to slip the object past his lips and... And damn, Connor looks adorable with a blue and red pacifier in his mouth, though his eyes are still filled with tears. Hank lets the silence take control again, creating patterns on Connor's back as the kid's tears begin to slow and fade into a few sniffles now and again.

Hank silently thanks Kamski's foresight with the pacifier and slowly- carefully- sets Connor down in the child seat that Kamski gave to Hank as a “sorry I tried to get Connor to shoot Chloe, but it was all planned and I actually created him to deviate from his programming and show the world that androids aren't machines or slaves!” gift. In fact, Kamski might have gone a bit overboard with the apologizing through lavish gifts, even though he never outright apologized for the event. Hank suspects that's his entire personality in a nutshell though, so he doesn't comment. He's not a man of many words either, so who's he to judge?

And if he gets a shitload of gear for android-care, then... that's just a perk he'll have to deal with.

As it is, Kamski's all but had Connor's spare room renovated to fit his current model. Hank had to stop him before he started to suggest moving to a bigger and better house.

Hank slips into the front seat and drives them home, watching the sky shift to a stabler shade of blue as the clock hits 1 pm. Things are... Things are good and he can't even imagine wanting to drink in the near future.

He remembers Cole, but the pain is a distant throb compared to the overbearing anguish from before; he knows that Cole always wanted a brother. Even though it's a few years too late, Hank can't help but think that Cole would be happy for Hank. Connor and Cole would have loved each other.

Well, right now he has one son that needs him and that's what matters now. Connor needs him and Hank is ready to be the one to care for his needs.

Hank lets out a soft breath and loses himself in the color of the sky and the feeling of the wheel under his hand. He glances at the rear-view and sees Connor asleep in the car seat, pacifier still between his lips.

He gives the rear-view a soft smile and feels his old, battered heart fill with light.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts, comments, or thoughts? Feel free to leave them here! 
> 
> Question of the chapter: Because we've already seen androids becoming more human, what's your opinion on humans modifying their bodies via technology in the future? 
> 
> Ex: installing an AI in their minds through a device, implanting chips to help them do daily tasks or cope with [not delete or instantly cure] different conditions and disabilities, adding more advanced prosthesis to help someone move around better. 
> 
> I'm personally all for it, but some people seem to be against the idea of incorporating these things into the stories due it being a touchy topic for some. I'd like to know your opinions on the matter.


End file.
